2022 Issue  >  Poetry  >  The Man in the Wall

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Photo by Mikayla Faivre

The Man in the Wall

Connor Campbell

I know you’ve seen me once. 

Did you notice when your sweatshirt fell off the hanger? 

It was a blue hoodie hanging separately from the rest. 

I was doing you a favour, I promise. Blue isn’t your colour.

 

You’ve only seen me once, but have felt me forever. 

I’ve seen you forever, but have felt you once.

 

Your mother told you that I wasn’t real, and the dark isn’t scary.

But she never saw me like you did. 

Whether you wanted to or not, you and I bonded. 

You tethered three nails into my frame. 

Each loving hit buried them deeper underneath my skin.

Blood never ran, screams never sounded, our connection unwavered. 

 

Consoling you when you cry from the edge of the world you live in.

Your shadow never liked me. After that, I promised to never leave.

You made a habit of changing in your closet. If only I could draw

What I see every day,

You’d be as rich as you are beautiful.

 

Behind moving boxes,

Behind hangers and knitted cardigans,

Behind stolen clothes and piles of pants,

I watch, knowing we may never speak.

From the edge of my world, a small corner connects our two.

Connor Campbell is a senior at UW-Platteville with a major in English and a minor in Creative Writing.

Mikayla Faivre is from North Freedom, Wisconsin, and is majoring in Animal Science. She has always been enamored by storytelling and spends her spare time reading or writing. Mikayla is a recipient of the David Cole Award in Creative Writing. This is her second year as an editor for the Spirit Lake ReviewFind her on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mikfaivre/